Sick Day
by Ember-Star-Lord
Summary: -Requested Oneshot- When Dean is sick, it's finally Sam's turn to take care of his brother.


Sam and Dean Winchester _were _out on a witch hunt, but unfortunately for them Dean got a serious cold in the middle of their hunt. Dean just said that the cold would quickly pass, but Sam said it could be more like the flu. It was something that Dean didn't want to hear, so he hit Sam upside the head for saying that. Dean really hoped that it wasn't the flu, or else he would have to sit out the next few hunts or even put the witch hunt on hold until he was feeling better. They wouldn't even have a hunt, by the time Dean would be feeling better they would lose the the trail of the witches.

"...I'm not going to the doctors, Sam..." Dean said before he went into a coughing fit. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "I'll be fine, I just need a little sleep that's all. When I wake up I'll be just fine and we can go back to hunting these witches." Sam just looked at his older brother for a few minutes until Dean got annoyed. "What?!" He snapped.

"Dean.. You have the flu, it's not gonna go away over night-"

"How do you know? You're not a doctor."

"Dean-"

"Shut up, Sammy."

When Dean saw the nearest hotel, he pulled the Impala into the parking lot. He felt like he was about to fall asleep at the wheel of his car and needed sleep. He much rather take a break from driving than let Sam drive his Impala. That was something that would never happen in a million years.

After getting out of the Impala and paying for a room, Sam and Dean went to it and Dean almost collapsed onto the bed. The room was small and there was only one bed, but Dean had already claimed it. If Sam thought that he would be taking the bed Dean would have to kick some ass. There was a small kitchen in the room, but it looked cheap and Sam thought that it wasn't going to work. It was a cheap motel, everything looked really gross and Sam did not want to touch anything, he almost cringed when Dean fell on the dirty bed that probably did have bugs on it. Seriously gross... Sam thought to himself as he sat awkwardly on the dirty couch that probably also had bugs on it.

"Just you watch, Sammy. Once I wake up from my nap I'll be as good as new and we can kick some witch ass," Dean told his little brother who was trying to get the TV in the room to work but it was just as crappy as anything else in the hotel so of course it didn't work...

"If that's what you want to believe, Dean... But I'm telling you, you won't get better after a nap." Sam rolled his eyes as he stood up from the couch and wandered into the small kitchen. He opened the refrigerator to see rotten food and even a dead rat inside. "That's seriously gross..." Sam muttered under his breath before closing it shut. "Out of all the motels we could have gone to and you pick this dump?"

"Don't give me that crap, Sammy," Dean snapped as he went under the covers of the bed. "I felt like I was going to fall asleep and this place was the closest. So shut your cakehole."

"I could have just driven-"

"No. You're not touching my car again."

Sam sighed and looked at the wall that had chipped paint, dirt and a hole running down it. "Did you want anything to make you feel better? Soup or anything?"

"You're not taking care of me, Sam."

"What? Why not? You used to take care of me all the time when I was little and when I was sick. What's wrong with repaying the favour?"

"I said no!" Dean snapped, rolling over on his side so he didn't have to face Sam's direction. "Like I said, once I wake up from my nap I'll feel 100% better, just you watch." Sam sighed at Dean's decision. Why was he so stubborn?

* * *

><p>Dean has been taking his "nap" for about seven hours, by this time Sam realized that it was too late to catch back up with the witches' trail by now... Sam was sitting on the floor with his laptop when Dean woke up. He sat up in bed, feeling worse than before. He had a really bad headache, a fever, was coughing a lot, and his throat hurt. Ugh... What did he do to deserve this?<p>

"Sammy?" Dean said, he had to clear his throat afterwards to get his voice back. "Sammy," he said again.

"What's up?" Sam said, quickly closing his laptop shut. "You need something?"

"I feel terrible..." He laid back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling above. "I think I might have the flu..."

"I told you that!"

"Well good for you."

"Did you need anything to help you feel better, Dean?" Sam asked again, knowing what the answer was going to be. Sam didn't understand why Dean never wanted to get help even though there were times that he could seriously use it.

Dean didn't say anything for a few seconds which had Sam believe that he had fallen back to sleep. "...Well... Can you actually make me some soup? It'll make me feel better I think..."

"Sure." Sam set his laptop aside before standing up off of the dirt covered floor. "Don't worry, Dean. I got this one."


End file.
